Songs for the Road
by TheNewIdea
Summary: An ensemble piece in which the Griffins face new challenges in new places while going nowhere in particular. Rated T for dark humor, observational humor and popular culture references.
1. The Gas Station Song

The Gas Station Song

Driving on the road in the cramped station wagon, Peter and his family were trying, to the best of their ability, to stay awake. They had been driving for the past seventeen hours and had only stopped for the occasional restroom break and lunch; they were hungry, tired and extremely bored. Pulling into the first gas station they could find, Peter, Lois, the kids and Brian crawled out of the car to stretch their legs and breathe.

Walking into the convenience store, Lois, Meg, Chris, Stewie and Brian slowly began to browse, if only to kill time. The loudspeaker was playing "Don't Fear the Reaper" by The Blue Oyster Cult, which was about the only sound that emanated from the entire store, the Griffins and the one part-time employee who worked the counter remaining relatively silent, not because they didn't have anything to say, rather there was no reason to say much of anything.

Browsing through the miscellaneous CD and movie bin, Meg found a copy of Barenaked Ladies, as well as a random CD with a collection of various artists. Turning the collection CD over, she found that the artists included the likes of Journey, AC/DC, and Metallica as well as people like Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, and Merle Haggard. As she looked over the names and realized that none of them made any sense together, Meg rationalized that whoever made the CD either just like good music, was from the South, or didn't know what they were doing and picked random people; she went with the former. Setting down Barenaked Ladies, Meg, the collection CD in hand, fully intent on purchasing it, if only for the experience, continued to browse, making her way to the food.

Lois and Stewie were by the slushy machines, trying to decide which one to buy, both of them figuring that in order to continue the journey they would need something made of pure sugar. Their choices were sour green apple, blue raspberry, cherry, and orange. Stewie, at seeing the slushies, taking note of their composition, immediately began to compute the probability of slipping a cyanide capsule into Lois' drink without being noticed. It wasn't long until he realized that he did not have a cyanide capsule, leaving all of his tools of matricide at home hidden in his room. Sulking to himself, Stewie resigned to green apple, while Lois took an orange. Their drinks made and seeing that there was nothing else to do, Lois and Stewie made their way to the counter to check out.

Brian made his way to the corner of the room, meandering and taking as long as he would allow himself in order to avoid sitting between Chris and Stewie: the former taking up half of the seat and the later a notorious kicker in his sleep. In the back aisle he noticed a series of magazines. Hopefully glancing through, trying to find something of interest or perhaps a pornography that he hadn't tired, Brian discovered a bent and partially faded magazine called "The Things They Don't Want You to Know". Picking up the magazine and flipping through the pages, Brian noticed that some of them were dog-eared and that some sections were circled, for some reason they had to do with lock-picking and the basics of Kenpo; why this was in a magazine in a gas station Brian had no idea, nor did he care. Shrugging and figuring it would at least get him through some of the quieter moments, as well as picking up a special issue of Doghouse, the choice pornography for the canine community, Brian, literature in hand, casually began whistling to himself trying to be inconspicuous and calmly made his way to the counter, taking his place behind Lois and Stewie.

Chris, who already at the counter to begin with, was staring at the neon signs and the posters on the wall. He recognized a few of the posters from a few old movies that he had seen in his spare time, but of most of them he had never heard of. Mostly however, Chris stared at the part-time employee, if only because he was the most disgusting person he had ever since in his entire life. Dressed in a red shirt and khaki pants, the employee, whose name tag read Craig, had a large lump on the side of his head that covered his right eye; on the other side of his face was a single long and disgusting hair that reached to the bottom of his chin. It was thick and periodically seemed to dance with the small oscillating fan that sat in the upper left corner on the ceiling. His teeth, which were in serious need of brushing, were broken and going in various directions as if he were in the 1800's and hadn't yet heard of toothpaste. Yet despite this, Craig still managed to have a goofy smile that stretched across his face.

It was more disturbing that during the transactions, Lois and Stewie with their drinks, Brian with his literature, and Meg with her music, that not a single word was spoken. It was almost as if both parties knew exactly what was going on, or more accurately, it was so late in the night that all thought of manners and decency had left them, in favor of getting their things, and in the case of Craig, going home for the night. Chris, taking note and sulking, temporarily hating his family for their lack of courtesy leaned over as nonchalantly as he could and tried to think of conversation topics. Looking to his left and seeing one of the counter displays, this one of maps of the area, Chris picked one out and opened it.

"Excuse me" Chris said as he opened the map, "Can you point me to-?"

Peter honked on the horn, cutting him off and sending Lois, Stewie, Brian and Meg out the door. Chris, staring at Craig for one final time and pitying him, gently gave him a slap on shoulder, folded the map and walked out.

Just as they made their way outside and towards the car, a dog-catcher in a white van pulled up in the next space. The Dog-catcher stepped out of his van, in his brown uniform and his catch pole and clipboard in hand and walked to the back of his van and opened the door. He pulled out a cage, in which was a rabid dog. Taking the dog and slipping through the catch pole, the Dog-catcher calmly walked to the edge of the road, pulled out a revolver that he carried with him and shot it in the face, killing it. Chris and Brian stopped for a moment and stared at the body, they then looked at each other and then at the Dog-catcher, wondering why it was that execution of that manner was in order.

"What was that really necessary?" Chris asked as the Dog-catcher reached his van, "You couldn't have done it more humanly?"

The Dog-catcher huffed and shook his head, "Don't tell me how to do my job. State says I execute dangerous animals I execute dangerous animals. Doesn't matter to them how its done, long as its done."

Brian growled at the prospect, instinct telling him to take revenge, but Chris's arm, as well as his half comforting embrace, holding him back.

"Just keep walking before I remember my obligations" Brian threatened.

The Dog-catcher laughed and looked Brian over, apparently sizing him up.

"You'd fit pretty easily in one of my cages boy" The Dog-catcher continued, "Oh yes, you'd fit right in, in jail. Of that I'm sure of."

Brian growled again, this time louder than before wanting to make to sure that the Dog-catcher knew that he wasn't just making idle threats. Chris, as a result, increased his efforts to hold him back, his eyes locked firmly on the revolver that rested on the man's side.

"Just get your van and leave" Chris said calmly, "We don't want any trouble."

The Dog-catcher nodded and flipped out a business card, tossing it to Chris only for it to land on the ground.

"You have any problems with him call me" The Dog-catcher declared as he got in the driver's seat, "I'll put him down for yah, no charge!"

Brian broke away from Chris and charged at the van, which already pulling out of the gas station. Barking his head off and spewing as profanities as he could, Brian did the only thing he could at the moment and flipped the van off. Chris, concerned and slightly disturbed, walked over to the dog and knelt beside him, Brian now leaning over the dead one that had been shot.

"Close its eyes" Chris instructed, staring at the dog and noticing its whites.

Brian shrugged indifferently and shook his head in disgrace.

"Why?" he asked, "What good would it do?"

Chris sighed, he wasn't entirely sure of the answer himself, only that it was the respectful thing to do for the deceased.

"Do it" Chris pressed, placing his hand on Brian's paw and running over the eyes, "There, now it can rest."

Brian nodded in absolution, not really sure of the meaning, especially when it was for a dead animal, a lesser creature. He assumed that it was more for the sake of the living than anything else.

"Thank you Chris" Brian said after a few moments, "It's good know I have someone who can hold me back."

Chris smiled and ruffled the dog's fur before taking his hand and leading them to the car where Lois, Stewie, Meg and Peter were already situated.

"Hurry up guys" Peter said as he leaned his head out the window, "We've burning daylight here."

Chris and Brian looked up and around and noticed that it was still very much in the night hours. Peter groaned, annoyed that he had been taken so literally and pointed behind him.

"Stop being smart and get in!" Peter berated, "Jesus Christ, we move any slower and we've start devolving as a species!"

Brian laughed to himself at the notion, for then technically speaking, he and Peter would be equals in the eyes of society; Peter not being that far of a stretch from most basic forms of life, functioning only through luck and experience rather than actual intelligence, but even then it was a lax luck and half remembered experiences, often resulting in repeat incidents. Brian did not say anything, in the event that he would be left on the side of the road, neither did Chris, who was thinking similar thoughts, for the same reason. Staring at Peter and then at Lois, who was slowly growing impatient, Chris and Brian piled in the car.

Pulling out of the gas station, Peter turned on the radio and upon finding that it was Panic at the Disco, turned it off and put in one of his favorite CDs, a personal mix-tape that he had created in the 1990's simply titled "Awesome Driving Mix Vol. 1". Upon hearing it, the entire car groaned, for this was the hundred and seventy-fifth time that it had crossed their ears and the only one who didn't seem to mind was Peter, who remained oblivious.

"Hey!" Peter shouted, as he looked about the car, "Driver picks, that's the rule."

Lois, the kids and Brian stared at each other for a moment, refusing to believe that Peter had played that old card for if that was the case than Lois should have had a say in music choice for the last hundred miles.

"New rule" They all declared in unison, giving Peter an annoyed and tired stare.

Peter huffed and rolled his eyes. Rather than switch stations again, guessing that he was getting ready to enter a dead zone, Peter simply decided to turn the radio off and drive in silence. This prompted the others to slowly drift into sleep, Lois, Meg and Chris resting their heads on the window; Brian leaning against Chris, for he provided more cushion, and Stewie favoring Meg due to her proximity.


	2. Songs about Meg: Travel

Songs about Meg: Travel and the Journey So Far

Rousing herself from a restless sleep Meg, upon discovering that they were still on the road and nowhere near a motel with which to stop and rest, reached down into the floorboard and picked up her journal and a book light. Turning the book light, at the same time making sure it was on the lowest setting in order not to disturb Stewie, who could sleep just anywhere, Meg casually looked out the window and began to think. After a few moments and looking down at the first page, she noticed that on the top was a message from the person who gave it to her. It read simply:

 _Fill these pages._

Smiling, remembering fondly the day that she got the journal on her birthday a few weeks before, the only gift she received; she remembered that for some reason she didn't think of much it then, ultimately passing if off as an attempt to appease and perhaps make up for past transgressions. Yet despite this, Meg found herself taking it with her, if nothing else in the event that she would find inspiration to write.

It wasn't long until something struck her, an idea, and as far as she was concerned, a good idea. She would use the journal to document the trip in all of its grandeur, the good and the bad, as well as her memory would allow. Taking a page from Brian, the self-proclaimed author of the family, Meg pressed the pen to the page and began writing the first things that came to mind.

 _We've been travelling for almost nineteen hours and we still don't really know where we're going. When we started saving for the trip five months ago we had talked about going to Hawaii or perhaps Cancun. Then Peter decided, rather stupidly, to drive a forklift over his boss resulting in a lawsuit and the loss of our savings. I guess this is his attempt to make it up to us, packing us all in the car and driving to nowhere in particular for an unspecified amount of time._

 _I'm surprised I am managing to write anything at all without slandering everyone. We're only halfway through Connecticut and already we're driving each other insane. Stewie keeps trying to do away with Lois in more obvious ways (as if it wasn't obvious enough to begin with); Lois herself is continuously trying to bond with me by talking about women's troubles; Brian is either taking drinks from his flask or attempting to give "sage wisdom" that no one asks for; and Chris is clingier than ever._

 _But of the worst of them bar none is Peter._

It was at this moment that Stewie reflexively grabbed onto Meg's writing arm, holding it captive for a few minutes. Meg, not to be deterred, carefully reached down into the floorboard once again, feeling for Rupert. Upon touching fur she pulled up, bringing the bear with the rest of her arm. Gently, with the care of a mother, Meg unhinged Stewie's grip from her arm and replaced it with Rupert, which he quickly took to, freeing Meg and leaving her to continue.

 _In addition to dragging us away from all of our friends he has absolutely refused to tell us where we are going and automatically expects us to just drop everything and go along just because we're his family. The only reason we agreed to it at all was because we were promised a vacation and this was the best opportunity. Not only that but he insists on playing the age-old car games and singing stupid road trip songs as if that is going to help us pass the time. (I'm beginning to understand why Brian drinks the way he does, I would too if I had to sit through another verse of Bette Milder)_

 _The only thing I've hoping for right now is a bed. I've haven't slept well since we left early this morning. We should be nearing a Days Inn or a Hampton or something. Maybe then we finally get some peace and find a way to enjoy this vacation._

Closing the journal and putting up the book light, in favor of at least attempting to fall back to sleep, Meg noticed out of the corner of her eye that Brian was beginning to stir himself as well. She didn't really care of course, knowing Brian to be an insomniac, for he rarely if ever drank himself to sleep. At the same time, Stewie began kicking, first into Brian's side, and then in Meg's right leg, causing equal pain to both and waking them up.

Brian sat up, the right side of his body numb and his left still in pain from Stewie's shoes. Looking around he saw Meg, for his eyes acclimated differently in the darkness than humans did and so was able to make her out in the minimal lighting.

"Can't sleep huh?" the dog said as he adjusted his seat belt, "With this kid in between us I'm surprised we get any sleep at all."

Meg laughed and shook her head, she didn't say anything for she wasn't the best whisperer and would undoubtedly wake people up and disturb Peter, who was still driving, trying to find a motel.

"Have you been writing?" Brian continued, "What about?"

Meg shrugged indifferently and handed the journal to Brian, figuring that she had nothing to hide. Opening the first page, the dog skimmed and casually laughed.

"You know that's what I love about you Meg" Brian declared as he handed the book back, "You're always so goddamn honest. Like you're so high and mighty. Let's talk how horrible my life and how everyone around me is a piece of shit-"

Brian leaned in, placing an arm on Stewie and resisting the urge to growl and bark, having respect for others' privacy.

"Let me tell you something Princess, if you think that you know me you're mistaken. You don't know me, none of you do. As far as I'm concerned that's enough for you not to get to have an opinion."

Peter glanced back at the dog, for now his voice was considerably louder than before; he decided that it wasn't worth scolding over and returned his tired gaze to the road. Brian, catching this, took note and turned back to Meg, who in turn, couldn't help but stare in pity.

"Why are you being so hostile?" Meg asked, slightly concerned, "Just because I have an opinion?"

Brian shook his head, for that was missing the point entirely. In his mind and deep down in his heart he knew that the only reason he was being so aggressive was because he had been cramped in the car for almost a day: his ass was sore from sitting and his brain was irritated from Peter and Stewie, who was constantly badgering him, even in sleep.

It was in that moment that Peter's "Awesome Driving Mix Vol. 1" turned to Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic". As the soft guitar and subtle drum resonated through the air and the calm and soothing voice of Van Morrison followed all conversation stopped; Brian retracting and resigning himself to rest on Chris once more. Meg, for her part, took up her journal and began writing once again.

 _Despite all the flaws that my family has I couldn't think of anyone else I would rather cross the country with. I like to think we balance each other out- Peter's zaniness and impulsiveness to Lois' reservation and subtly; Chris' clinginess to my own independence; Stewie's imagination to Brian's realism- to name a few key traits._

 _Doesn't surprise in the least bit that everyone is on edge. After all, you can only be in one place for so long surrounded by the same people without getting a little annoyed and pissed off at quirks that you would otherwise pay no mind to. Maybe it's because in closed spaces there is nowhere to go and so it makes it easier to confront people and point out their flaws and insecurities, all the while absolving yourself of any wrongdoing to the best of your ability. But that is a two-way street. I could have easily told Brian exactly what I thought about him in his lesser moments, listing a thousand examples, but I didn't; not because I thought about being the better person but simply because I am not a good whisperer and I often say things that I regret immediately after._

 _I observe things. I see what a lot of people tend to miss and I'd like to think that I know some people better than they know themselves, but obviously, because I cannot read minds nor can I ever experience their lives other than simply by in their company and being involved, this is not possible._

 _My only hope for the moment is that we find a place to sleep; I'm not entirely sure how much longer it will be before we start ripping each other throats out, and if that happens and history has anything to say about it, I'll be the first to go. Yet, for some reason, I wouldn't have it any other way. I have accepted my lot in life that I am the target for their misery, all of their insecurities and self-doubt they can place on me, and maybe I can help get them through it._

Van Morrison faded out, with it came the sudden silence, the only sound was the car against the highway. In the distance, Meg could see a motel sign with the vacancy light on; she wondered if Peter would have enough sense to pull in or to keep driving and risk going another hundred miles without stopping. Thankfully, either due to exhaustion or simply seeing his family asleep in the car and uncomfortable as they possibly could be, Peter pulled into the motel parking lot; exiting the car. Meg, seeing that there was nothing else to do, opened the door and followed him.

"Get back in the car Meg" Peter said, half irritated due to lack of sleep, "We may not even be staying here. Let me check the prices."

Meg folded her arms and titled her head slightly, her glasses slowly sliding down her nose which only added to the stare that she gave: a combination of total disbelief, amazement, and weariness.

"Dad" Meg began, "We've been driving for hours; it's late. Book the rooms, I'll get them up and get the bags."

Peter nodded and entered the motel, tossing Meg the keys on the way in. Unlocking the car and opening the trunk, at the same time waking Brian, Chris and Lois, all of whom were slowly rousing themselves from sleep to begin with, Meg began to unload the car.

"Get the essentials" Meg said as the group piled out of the car, temporarily leaving Stewie inside, "We won't be here long."

Lois laughed, for it sounded exactly like something someone would say when they were going to be somewhere for a long time; in this case however it was entirely true, for they would be leaving in the morning, but the tone made it sound as if they were about to embark on a great adventure at this motel. In a strange way, all of them would look back and realize that the motel, and the few events that happened during that single night, was the beginning of everything else. Retrieving Stewie from the backseat, as well as Rupert, knowing full well the tantrum that he would experience if the bear was forgotten, Meg, dragging behind a suitcase, made her way into the motel lobby.


	3. The Kids Are All Right

The Kids Are All Right

To Chris there were two outcomes for this trip in terms of the family: it would either bring them closer together or drive them further apart. It saddened to think about all the times that they had, everything they had experienced and been through in the short period of a few years; that it all hanged in the balance from the result of a single experience. Like Meg, Chris had thoughts on the matter, and most of them, unlike Meg, were generally optimistic, even if it was a little bit of wishful thinking on his part.

Walking into the lobby, which was nothing remarkable, Chris set down the bags he was carrying and made himself comfortable in a nearby chair. Meg, after giving Stewie to Lois, likewise did the same across from him, letting her load fall where it thought it would be comfortable and casually laid her head back, allowing her hair to feel the soft cushion, and said nothing, only sighing out of relief thankful that her sanity had made it this far.

It was then that Chris noticed a painting on the far wall. In and of itself the painting wasn't particularly remarkable, a simple portrait of a family consisting of a father, a mother, and their three children, as they sat on a beach enjoying each other company as they caught seashells, flew kites and watched the crashing waves over the nearby rocks. In the distance, a lighthouse, from which, a dark shadow, presumably the lighthouse keeper, kept watch for passing ships while seagulls flew around its rotating light as if they had inherited the traits of moths. The lower right corner of the painting was grass, the beginning of a small hill; on this hill was the family's car, on the car's hood was a blanket, tattered and worn. The opposite side of the painting was a small cliff-face that ultimately led to a series of beach houses, the summer vacation homes for the rich and generally lucky. The picture title, engraved on a small plaque in the modest wooden frame read: At the Beach. As Chris stared at the piece he imagined what it was like to be part of such a family, where vacations were normal and not necessarily big, grandiose affairs. Wiping his eyes, for he had begun to cry, the boy, for despite appearances Chris was still very much a child, smiled and began to laugh.

"How do you think we stay together Meg?" Chris asked, not really sure if the question had an answer, "I mean look at us, we're about as functional as Congress."

Meg shrugged and leaned forward, trying to keep herself awake through movement; she didn't really feel like talking however, circumstances being what they were and in an attempt to stave off the power of sleep, she gave an answer.

"We balance each other out" Meg replied, "Mom and Dad, you and me, Stewie and Brian. Package deals."

Chris shook his head immediately and sighed, his hands casually over his mouth as if by hiding it he were concealing a great truth that he wasn't ready to reveal; his eyes however, gave him away for they had a certain shine to them, in part because of the tears and in part because of the epiphany that had formed inside his head. Standing up and moving towards the front desk, Chris leaned his head into the hallway and casually noticed the signs on the walls, one of the rooms on the right and left side of the motel respectively, and one to a pool. Smiling, at the same time noticing that Stewie had woken himself up, Chris slowly began to have an idea to test his theory.

"Hey Stewie" Chris said, causing him to jump out of Lois's arms, "You wanna do something cool?"

Stewie raised his eyebrows curiously, failing to see what they could do at this time of night in a motel lobby.

"What are you on about?" Stewie asked in turn, "If it's something stupid you can just forget Chris, besides its late, what can we possibly do?"

Chris laughed and casually pointed towards the hallway sign; after which Stewie slowly began to smile, as if they had the same like-mindedness. In part they did, but not to the same degree. Casually walking over to Meg, Chris began to agitate, doing his part; while Stewie, who had a significantly easier job with Brian, began to do his.

Placing his hands behind his back and swaying back and forth nonchalantly at the same time drawing attention and suspicion to himself, Stewie tapped Brian on the shoulder, who slowly turned around and glared downwards, his eyes bloodshot red and parts of his fur in general disarray.

"Stewie?" Brian said as he wiped his eyes, yawning, "What are you doing up, I thought you were asleep?"

Stewie laughed and shook his head, "Sleep? What and miss all the fun? No, come on, you know me, I'm a night-lifer."

Brian rolled his eyes and gently rubbed his forehead in complete disbelief; he wanted nothing to do with Stewie or anyone at the moment, his brain focused on one thing.

"Don't you mean night-owl?" Brian corrected, annoyed beyond comprehension, "And no, before you say anything you're not a night-owl. _I'm_ a night-owl. Now please, leave me alone before I say something I'll regret."

Stewie only continued to rock back and forth on his heels, his smile increasing in width: almost devilish in nature. This, in response, made Brian uneasy causing him to raise his eyebrows and growl under his breath.

"Whatever it is you're doing stop it" Brian continued, "I don't want any part-"

Thinking as quickly as he could, Stewie, speeding the process up, resorted to physical violence. First, he grabbed the dog's eyelids and pulled down as hard as he could; immediately after which he stomped on Brian's foot and pushed him to the floor.

"Come on Chris!" Stewie said as he turned around, finding that Chris had succeeded in his task, paying keep-away with Meg's hat, "Whatever you're doing let's do it now!"

Chris nodded and motioned for Stewie to follow him, which he did, proceeding down the hallway with Meg and Brian giving chase.

Meanwhile, through all of this, Peter had just finished getting the rooms situated and Lois was trying not to think. Looking around, trying to figure out what was going on, for suddenly things had gotten significantly louder, Lois noticed that Brian, who was scrambling to his feet in slight pain at this point, and Meg, who was frizzled and incredibly annoyed, were heading towards the hallway.

"Brian, what's going on?" Lois asked as they passed, trying to make sense of the situation and possibly make up for her lack of observational skills in the parenting department.

"Ask your sons!" Brian replied, screaming down the hallway, in part because of the pain and in part because of the slight blood rage that had been awakened within.

Running into the pool area, Chris and Stewie were surprised to find that it was of decent size, the deepest level being 10 feet and about half the size of a pool at the local YMCA. Why a motel in the middle of Connecticut would have a pool of this size was beyond them. Maybe it served as a stopping point for tourists or maybe it was a just because the owner felt like having a pool would be a good investment and attract customers, whatever the reason the pool itself was in less than appropriate shape: the water was green and the tiles surrounding the pools were broken, some of them even making their way into the water and floating into the middle meandering aimlessly and without a clear purpose, as if pool tiles had a brain with which to think of such things to begin with.

Staring into the water and then at each other, Chris and Stewie, accepting the fact that they had gone this far in terms of the plan, nodded and patiently waited for Brian and Meg, to receive whatever fate had awaited them. No sooner did they appear however, did Chris begin the second part of his plan, the true test of his epiphany. Brian, sweating and groaning, physically not used to strenuous exercise, especially after travel, wiped his brow and readied himself. If he was being honest, for a moment that lasted for a less than a millisecond, murder had crossed his mind. It would be incredibly easy, even in his current dilapidated state for him to tackle Stewie into the pool and drown him, however, being that Brian was a dog of principle and that he loved the boy too much to cause him any kind of permanent harm, he did not act on these thoughts. Meg, conversely, wanted nothing more than to retrieve her hat, and if that required beating up Chris that was what it required. In a way, she supposed, it was incredibly ironic given that not even twenty minutes before she had mentioned the edginess and mental instability of the family, possessing such a strength of will and apparent grace to be considered above such behavior; but this was only a self-described behavior for deep down Meg was no better or worse than the rest of them.

"Chris" Stewie said, slightly terrified, "I've never seen Brian like this before. He's going to do something drastic I just know it so get on with it!"

Chris nodded and subsequently threw Meg's hat into the pool, after which, the following simultaneously happened in the span of two seconds: Meg ran for Chris, who proceeded to jump into the pool; Brian went for Stewie, who was grabbed by Chris as he fell into the water, pulling him down with him. Physics being what it is, Brian and Meg, who were both bound by the laws of gravity, each entered the pool with the grace of a whale. Emerging from the surface, Chris, who held onto Stewie and thus was being attacked by both Meg and Brian, did the only thing that he could think of and kicked as hard as he could, sending them both against the wall. This however, did not stop their advances or from words being said.

"I am going to kill you Chris!" Brian screamed, redirecting his anger, not wanting to wish death on Stewie, who as far as he was concerned didn't really deserve it.

Meg lunged for Chris as soon as she had the chance, as a result, Brian, who apparently decided that there was only enough room for one of them, tackled Meg, submerging them both underwater and causing them to almost drown. Chris meanwhile, taking advantage of the situation, as well as putting Stewie first, swam to the side of the pool, allowing his brother to take hold safely of the nearby step ladder. After which, the security of Stewie assured, Chris went down underwater and retrieved both Meg and Brian, who were gasping for air and still trying to kill each other.

"Out of my way Meg" Brian said, never losing his fire, "I don't want to hurt you."

Meg huffed as she pushed herself away, trying to break of Chris's arm, which had successfully gotten them both in a bear hug.

"It's a bit late for that don't you think Brian?" Meg replied, with as much sarcasm as she would allow.

Chris, who had had enough of this constant bickering and airing of grievances, took both of them and dunked them in the water repeatedly. After the third time, they got the hint, at least to some degree and stopped flailing about as if they were drowning, which in their defense, they almost had.

"Look at us!" Chris berated as he released them, at the same time grabbing Meg's hat and flinging it across the room, landing in the hallway, "One of us does the slightest wrong and we lose our goddamn minds, start killing each other."

Hanging their heads, the numerous dunking having cleansed, at least temporarily, their rage, Meg and Brian each came to the same conclusion, one that they both already knew: they were bad people. But it was worse than just being bad people, it was that they embraced the qualities that made them bad people, and that was the greater crime.

"We can't help who we are Chris" Meg explained, trying to defend herself, "We're selfish, all of us. We take and we take but we never give back, and when we do it's only when it's convenient."

Chris shook his head, refusing to allow her to luxury of self-pity, which was reserved only for moments that required it. This was not a moment for self-pity, instead a moment for reflection and realization.

"Don't beat yourself up" Chris said, cutting her off at the same time, "You don't know any better-"

Chris casually moved over back to Stewie, if only to have him part of the conversation, for he was equally guilty.

"I mean you are a bit desperate and sad, but that's not necessarily a crime."

Brian laughed and casually flicked water in Meg's direction.

"Tying people up in your basement is a bit of stretch though" the dog quipped, "And when you broke television in the entire city."

Meg huffed and began doing a backstroke, not really caring that the water was less than sanitary.

"Like you're one to talk?" Meg retorted, "Come on, really, "Brian Steele"? Yeah because that's such a _great_ name. You might as well have put a big "I am douche" sign on your forehead with that one."

Brian nodded nonchalantly and then turned to Stewie, who was the next obvious choice and whom he personally knew had mountains of dirt on him. Smiling, the dog gave a knowing nod, as he allowed himself to float, at the same time giving full permission to be emotionally destroyed. Stewie, thankfully, did not disappoint.

"Right then" Stewie began, with the slight clearing of hi **s** throat making himself even more pompous than usual, "What can I say about Brian? For starters, you're a self-centered, arrogant prick with no real skills or talents beyond licking your own balls which is about the only thing you've put to work in five years."

Brian chuckled to himself and rolled over, beginning a sidestroke.

"Come on Stewie" Brian pried, "you can do better than that. What about the time that I almost killed you?"

"Which time?" Stewie asked promptly, laughing a bit, for Brian had almost killed him too many times to count.

"Exactly" Brian continued, answering his own question and implicating himself, "I'm a cold heartless bastard compared to you people."

Chris shrugged and said nothing, he was not going to contest Brian's words, especially if they came from Brian himself. Leaning back and guessing that he was next, Chris sighed in content, thankful that the night had ended in peace.

Before any of them could continue however, Lois had entered the room, and from the looks of things, her shoulders hunched, crooked eyebrows and white knuckles, it was obvious that she was not happy.

"What the hell is going on?" Lois demanded, her voice shrill and piercing, causing everyone in the pool to stand on hair's end and dash to the sides in a desperate attempt at cover.

"Nothing Mom" Meg said, taking the initiative, "Just taking a swim."

Lois groaned and resisted the urge to punch her daughter in the face, a thought that had crossed her mind as soon as she started speaking.

"I expect this kind of behavior from Chris" Lois continued, "He doesn't know any better. But you. This is unacceptable Meg. Do you hear me? Unacceptable!"

Brian, shaking himself off in the absence of a towel, his tail partially between his legs in an attempt at showing submission, stepped forward, struggling to make direct eye contact. Fumbling with his hands as he tried to find courage, or rather, the right words, Brian gave a meek smile and a nod.

"Lois, please" Brian began, "It's not her fault, not really. It's-"

Lois raised her hand, cutting him off and causing Brian to produce a rather pitifully whine, trying to gain sympathy, both for himself and for the rest of the group. It didn't work and he knew that it didn't work, but it was still the thought that counted.

"I don't want to hear it Brian" Lois retorted, pointing towards the hallway, "You're not covering for them-"

Chris and Stewie meanwhile, made their way around the pool, their walks hurried in the event that they were called out for stalling for time. In the span of two seconds, faster than they had come up with the pool idea, they had collectively decided to reveal nothing; respecting the moment that had transpired between them.

"I am very disappointed in you" Lois continued, still focusing on Brian, her never-ending train of anger mixed with maternal responsibility and a bit of hard love at ramming speeds, "You're supposed to be the responsible one, and to think that I thought better of you."

This had gone too far for even when he was being chewed out by Stewie and Meg he knew it was in good fun, Lois however, had meant to emotionally cripple him. Chris and Stewie, in a bold move, came up to Brian and Meg's defense.

"That's not fair" Chris exclaimed, grasping Brian's shoulder with one hand, and Meg's with the other, "They weren't doing anything wrong. It was all my idea."

Brian turned towards Chris, his eyes sorrowful as he subtly shook his head, refusing to allow him to take sole responsibility. Before he could intervene and say otherwise, Lois had already taken it in, only hearing words that she wanted to hear.

"You would think of something stupid like that" Lois declared, "You're grounded Chris. In fact, you're all grounded. Now dry off and get to bed, I don't want to hear another word out of any of you until tomorrow morning, is that clear?"

Seeing that there was no point in arguing further, for that would only lead to more trouble, the four of them solemnly nodded and proceeded to show themselves out. No sooner did they enter the hallway did Lois present them with two room keys.

"Chris and Stewie you're Room 108; Meg and Brian, 109"

Meg stared at Brian, who in turn stared at her, both with looks of confusion and general uncertainty. Still, not wanting to risk bringing up the issue with Lois, they stood in stride and calmly proceeded the long walk down the hallway.

"Just promise me one thing" Brian said, bringing his voice down to a whisper, "Don't tie to me to any chairs. I've gotten enough rope burn to last a lifetime."

Meg laughed and gently ruffled the fur on top of Brian's head, which was still considerably wet.

"Deal" Meg replied, "Which side of the bed do you want?"

Brian immediately brushed the idea off, huffing a bit at the mere suggestion as if he were insulted.

"Come on Meg" Brian returned, "You know me. I sleep at the end like always."

Meg nodded, for she was well aware of Brian's sleeping habits, the dog often switching between the various rooms of the house and always taking the foot of the bed regardless if there was ample room at the top. She figured it was simple a dog thing, and she was right, but it was also a note of personal privacy. Nevertheless, it was comforting all the same and nothing more was said of the matter.


End file.
